


Ginger with a Twist

by NDKiwi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Good at Cunnilingus (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Eating out, F/M, Genderswap, Other, St. Patrick's Day, female!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NDKiwi/pseuds/NDKiwi
Summary: Aziraphale was supposed to meet Crowley in a crowded pub in Dublin to celebrate St. Patrick’s day.  What he didn’t expect was to come face to face with a figure that could only be described as sin incarnate.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Female!Crowley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 171





	Ginger with a Twist

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little St. Patrick’s Day fic to celebrate my birthday. Thanks to Lyricoloratura for the beta!

The pub was full of raucous and intoxicated people dressed in the Irish flag and green painted shamrocks on their bodies. Beer ran freely, whether dark chocolate Guinness or an emerald-dyed IPA, and the shots of whiskey lined the weathered wood of the bar like little leprechauns dancing at the end of the rainbow and frankly, Aziraphale felt completely out of place. 

This type of place was far from his normal haunt. He much preferred the elegant quietude of the Ritz or the Criterion, not some dive bar in the heart of Dublin. And on St. Patrick’s Day of all days. The angel huffed as he pushed his way through the sweaty bodies with a brow scrunched in concern. 

“Excuse me. Pardon...sorry…” Aziraphale looked around desperately for Crowley. That was why he was here after all. Crowley had called him yesterday and asked him to meet here but wouldn’t tell him why.

Ever since the derailing of the apocalypse the two of them had spent time traveling the world and even made a stop at Alpha Centauri. Aziraphale thought Crowley really had done a lovely job with that particular star system. But for the anniversary of the day they were free to declare their love for one another, otherwise known as the day after the not end of the world, Crowley had asked him to meet him in this pub on St. Patrick’s Day and not to ask any questions. He had even written it in the card he had given Aziraphale. Granted it was a reused sympathy card Crowley had ‘regifted’ from an arrangement of flowers from a funeral he passed on his way to the bookshop. And considering he was willing to wait nearly nine months for this particular present, Aziraphale figured it must be important.

“Excuse me, bartender? Have you seen a rather skinny man here with red hair and sunglasses?” He inquired from the harried looking woman behind the bar. She looked up.

“Really? A redhead? In Dublin? On St. Patrick’s Day?” She huffed out an incredulous laugh. She waved her hand around vaguely at all the people in the pub. “Take your pick, you muppet.” And she went back to work, leaving a rather gobsmacked Aziraphale standing there.

The sound of a throat being cleared drew the angel’s attention and he glanced over his shoulder and his (fortunately unnecessary) heart stopped beating . Behind him was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. And considering he had been co-workers with the angels and archangels of heaven, that was saying something. Aziraphale stood there, mouth hanging open as he took in the sight before him.

Sitting on the barstool, one long, pale leg crossed over the other was a slim woman, dressed in a tight black dress that left nothing to the imagination. She stood and smiled wickedly as Aziraphale turned towards her. His eyes fell to the floor to move from the black stilettos she wore on dainty feet and up her impossibly long legs. His increasingly hungry gaze reached the well above the knee and tighter-than-strictly necessary hemline and he blinked as if taking a mental picture, memorizing the image as if he may never see it again. As his eyes travelled further up, he saw that the dress had a neckline that plunged nearly to her flat navel, causing him to swallow hard. Around her neck was a silver serpent necklace, the tail of the snake wrapping around the neck and the head, complete with amber eyes, rested between the slight well of the woman's cleavage. Somehow, the thinnest of straps looping around the alabaster column of her neck held the fabric up. 

When Aziraphale finally managed to look up into this devilishly gorgeous woman's face, his breath caught in his throat. She had lovely dark ginger hair tumbling over her shoulders and framing her delicately angular face. The slightly upturned lips were perfectly plumped and painted scarlet. A smattering of freckles dusted her nose and cheeks just under a pair of old Hollywood style cats-eye sunglasses. The angel licked his lips as the woman reached a dainty hand up to slip the glasses down her nose slightly to reveal a lamplike eye, the black slit dilated as she winked at him before pushing them up again.

“What took you so long, love? I’ve been waiting nearly an hour and have fought the urge to cause boils to erupt on several unsavory men’s genitals for how they talked to me.” 

“Cr-“. Aziraphales voice broke like a prepubescent human boy and he cleared it before trying again. “Crowley? I...I didn’t see you there. Not that I would have recognized you immediately if I had.” He noticed that his pale pressed trousers were getting rather uncomfortably tight, something he had gotten used to feeling after he and Crowley began to engage in a sexual relationship. He had not had much use for genitalia in the human regard before then. Aziraphale let out a soft gasp when a few drunken revelers bustled him around to get to the bar and knocked him into his friend. Crowley's smirk broadened into a full smile and the blush on Aziraphale’s cheeks deepened. 

“I wanted to surprise you. It seems I accomplished my goal.” Crowley dipped her head to purr in her partner's ear, “Is it too much for my precious angel?” 

“N-no, I just…” Aziraphale tried to get his brain to work, considering there was negative blood flow in that direction of his anatomy at this moment. Crowley leaned up again, worried she may have gone too far when a warm hand found the cool metal of the necklace. Aziraphale's middle finger traced the serpentine path beside the necklace, leaving a fire burning in Crowley's chest in its wake. Aziraphale lifted his face now, blush ever present but eyes glittering with desire. He slipped a finger under the head of the creature and lifted it slightly.

“I was under the impression there were no snakes left on the Emerald Isle.” It was Crowley's turn to feel the air rush from her lungs and her new body to react. She had never been aroused while female before and was unprepared for the slick feeling that appeared suddenly between her legs. 

“Just me, I guess.” The flustered demon sputtered out.

“Good. That’s one that I won’t help another Saint remove.” Aziraphale chuckled. He didn’t often get to be the one who caught Crowley off guard and it felt powerful. “You look gorgeous, my dear. Absolutely delicious.”

Crowley was speechless now, so turned on that her own blush painted her pale chest. This was not how she had planned for this night to go. Crowley had planned on meeting Aziraphale here, telling him a story, then dragging him to the suite she had booked in the town centre, hopefully to seduce him further. Now it seemed the seduction was not needed, the tables had been flipped.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, just assumed this was going to be another night of drinking too much and possibly fooling around after a quick pop back to London. But as he licked his lips slowly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, he could see so much more potential in the way the night may play out.

“It is a bit crowded here and the patrons are-“ there was a crash from across the crowded room causing them to look that direction in time to see three men and a woman flinging themselves at one another. “And that would be our cue, my dear lady.” 

The Angel held out his arm and Crowley tucked her hand in Aziraphale’s elbow, allowing herself to be led out into the street. Revelers stumbled around them, holding up flags and long plastic cups containing brightly coloured drinks. Limericks and songs were all around and the smell of sick and other bodily fluids were thick in the air. Nothing, though, compared to the scent that drifted up to Aziraphale’s sensitive nose as they rounded a corner into a quieter alleyway. The lighting was dim as he inhaled sharply and stopped suddenly, nearly knocking Crowley off balance.

“Oh my sweet dear. Does my nose deceive me?” He crowed as Crowley looked around the deserted stretch of alley in search or something that may have caught Aziraphale’s attention.

“Perhaps it is from a restaurant nearby. Though all I smell is chips…”. Crowley's sharp nose sniffed and smelled nothing else except- herself. Her blush deepened, noticeable even in the dark recesses of downtown Dublin's streets.

“There you are. Got there in the end.” The soft chuckle Aziraphale breathed out was clouded with desire. In a slow, steady dance, never breaking eye contact with Crowley, he maneuvered them so they were in the dark doorway of some shop that had been locked up long ago. Aziraphale pressed Crowley's body against the cool door, which, after a quick little miracle-causing nose scrunch, was cushioned with a fluffy matting covered in fur. “Wouldn't want to damage such a lovely dress. At least not until I get you to a room to tear it off.”

The whimper that Crowley heard surprised her. Though not as much as when she realized it was coming from her own throat. Her chest heaved slightly as she looked down at her sweet, innocent angel as he said the most filthy, devilish things and she couldn’t stop another whimper as his nose pressed against the crook of her neck and he sniffed.

“Mmmm. Better than any perfume created by the finest craftsmen. But let's see if you taste better than a crepe.” Aziraphale purred as he licked along Crowley's sharp jawline before capturing her mouth in an utterly debauched kiss. Tongues warred and slid over each other in an age-old dance. One of Aziraphale's warm, wandering hands found a breast, cupping it reverently. It was small yet perfect as it filled his palm and he gave it a gentle squeeze, drawing a moan from Crowley. His other hand slipped down, down until it found the barely there hem and slipped under. A small gasp of desire from Crowley broke the kiss.

“Zira…” She moaned as his questing fingers found her nakedness underneath and dipped inside.

“No panties? I suspected as much, but this is such a lovely treat.” He smirked and tapped his index finger against the little bundle of nerves just so and Crowley’s knees nearly gave out of her. Aziraphale caught her round the waist before she could fall and slipped his hand out from under her dress. He brought it up to his nose, taking in the intimate smell of her and his eyes fluttered shut as he slid two fingers in his mouth, tasting her. “Divine.”

Crowley was going to discorporate right here in this alley. Her body would be gone and she would have a mountain of paperwork, Hell’s favourite punishment, to do but if this wasn’t fucking worth it, nothing was. She looked down to see Aziraphale giving her a hungry look as he sank to his knees, clad in his favourite suit, mindless of whatever much might get on it. His hands slid tenderly up Crowley’s thighs to her hips, hiking up the skirt to bunch over them. A hand found the back of Crowley's slightly ticklish right knee, which jerked, before she felt it pulled up before Aziraphale slotted his left shoulder under it moaning loudly as he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh.

“I have been hungry all evening and I am going to eat you lovely vagina like it is a five course meal at the Ritz.” 

This was the only warning Crowley got before Aziraphale buried his face in her pussy and devoured it. His tongue acting like it was making a map of the dips and contours, cataloging the tastes and labeling them one by one for future perusal. Her other leg shook slightly, nearly all her weight resting on her lover's shoulder as she raised one hand to grip the fur behind her and the other tangled inelegantly in the pale curls of Aziraphale's head. She couldn’t stay silent any more than she could make God do what she wanted so she cried out in pleasure, nearly writhing on Aziraphale’s face.

Aziraphale moaned as his mouth was flooded with the heady taste of his lover. This was something new to both of them but he sure as heaven was a quick study. He lapped at Crowley’s swollen clit, smiling at the shudders he felt through her body. The sounds she made spurred him on as he slipped his tongue down to dip inside her most intimate of places. The smell of Crowley filled his head with a tang of femininity lining the familiar scent and it was delightful. Aziraphale slipped his middle finger slowly into her entrance causing Crowley to keen loudly and for another burst of flavour to cascade into his eager mouth. His trousers became impossibly tighter as he suckled on her clit as his finger slowly fucked into her.

The sensations that Crowley felt from all directions never allowed her to get on even footing and her body rocked and shook of its own accord and she could only ride it out and take everything she was being given. 

“Z-zira...Oh Satan, Aziraphale...I…”. Crowley could not even string a sentence together as she felt an orgasm, stronger than any she had ever had in her centuries-long existence, building low in her belly.

The change in her movements, more erratic and needy, told Aziraphale everything he needed to know. He quickly eased a second finger in with the first, rocking them with a slight angle to reach the spot inside he knew she had. The moment he hit it, Azirphale knew. Crowley's head snapped up and back, smacking the miracled cushioning as she very nearly howled his name into the inky darkness of the night.

Crowley's leg was carefully eased off Aziraphale's shoulder and the angel stood carefully, arm wrapped around her waist to hold her up from sinking to the asphalt. With a smug smile and lust blown pupils, Aziraphale pulled the skirt back down to cover Crowley’s body as he pressed a line of tender kisses along her jaw as she panted, chest heaving as she came down from the incredible high.

“Where the bloody hell did you learn to do that, Angel?” She whispered in a cracked voice as she met his eyes. He pressed a kiss to the corners of her mouth before answering, his lips a breath’s distance from her own.

“I do enjoy a good book and Grey’s Anatomy and the Kamasutra are included in that list, my love.” Azirphale punctuated the statement with a kiss, his tongue seeking refuge in Crowley's mouth.

She tasted herself and nearly gasped. Sure, she had kissed him after mutual blow jobs before but there was something different about her taste here. There was a tang she found pleasant. “I wonder what you taste like as a woman, Angel.” She mused as they broke the kiss.

“Well we shall just have to find out. Though tonight I would quite appreciate it if you would allow me to get you somewhere that I can bury this-“ Aziraphale pressed his body against hers and Crowley could feel the hardness against her hip.”-inside you tonight.”

“I am very happy to do that. I have a room a few streets over.” She admitted with half lidded eyes. “If you can handle the walk that is.”

She was answered by a roll of Aziraphale’s eyes as he stepped back, holding his arm out again for her to take. Crowley was a bit unsteady on her feet for the first few steps but slowly got it. As they exited the dark alley and merged onto the bustling street once again, a thought occurred to her.

“Wait, you are the one that helped St. Patrick get all the snakes off the island?”

“Yes. But not because I didn’t want the snakes here.” Aziraphale explained. “This is just not the proper environment to thrive for them. I didn’t want them to suffer and have shorter lives than necessary. I am rather partial to the serpents.” He blushed deeply.

“You are ridiculous. Utterly, totally, irrevocably hopeless and I love you to the stars and back.” Crowley radiated love as she snuggled into Aziraphale’s side. “I wanted to meet here because it's the 1600th anniversary of the snakes all being expelled and I thought it would be fun to introduce one back, but now I don't want to. Not now that I know why they are gone.”

“Well I, for one, am glad you invited me. Has it been the anniversary present you expected?” Azirpahale asked nervously. “You waited so long for it and I fear I may have derailed your plans.”

“It has been so much better. You are full of surprises, Zira, and I wouldn’t change a thing.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Now let's hurry because frankly, these shoes are killing me and I can’t wait to see how this form responds to you in other positions.”

“You wily snake. You say the sweetest things.” They stopped suddenly and Aziraphale wrapped his arms around her and they were suddenly in the hotel room. “I love you, Crowley.”

“And I you, my angel. Now fuck me before I explode,” she said impatiently.

“With exceeding pleasure.”


End file.
